A Silent Rebellion
by HazyEpiphany
Summary: Head Peacekeeper Cray is an evil whoremonger… or is he? Non-canon but could have happened. Not your typical Cray-bashing. Rating: T for mild themes. Oneshot.


**A Silent Rebellion**

A/N: I really don't have time to write but this oneshot really wanted to be heard. Yeaaah… Don't worry, this isn't as dark as it seems. Though it'll be rated T because of the topic.

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An elderly man in white armor stands overlooking his district. His weary eyes scan the rugged, scarred land. He is Head Peacekeeper Cray, of District Twelve. He is disliked, not only for his uniform, but for his rumored habit of luring starving young women into his bed for money. He gives a thin-lipped smile because he knows the truth. The people he is sworn to protect know only what he wants them to know. And the people he is sworn to defer to also know only what he wants them to know. This is no corrupt soldier. This is a crafty fox. And he knows that soon the Capitol must fall.

A timid knock brings Old Cray from his thoughts. He opens the door and his eyes meet those of a young, bedraggled girl not yet twelve. His heart clenches in sympathy and it is only the experience of years of donning his mask, that hateful mask of superior indifference, that stops a tear from reaching his eyes. He remembers his wife and daughter. His beautiful family whose lives were taken away by the Capitol. He remembers them and his resolve strengthens. He will live to see the end of the corrupt oppressors.

He glances furtively around and sees the gathered watchers. The old gossipy crones, the young innocent children. He knows what this seems like and nods to himself. Good. They know only what he wants them to. He ushers the girl into his home with a firm but gentle hand and closes the oaken door silently.

The girl's eyes stare defiantly up at him and he chuckles. He can see her spirit and admires her refusal to show fear. She reminds him of his own daughter, in a way. In his heart, he promises to protect her. Giving her a thin-lipped but genuine smile, he shows her that he intends her no harm. She relaxes slightly, but her distrustful eyes watch his every movement. He leaves the room for a moment and returns momentarily with a hand behind his back. He sees her minute flinch and understands her fear. From behind his back, he produces a roll of bread and a slice of cheese. She stares up at him in disbelief and snatches the victuals away from him quickly, thinking he is teasing her.

He watches her as she wolfs down some bread and cheese. He watches her discreetly slip half the roll and half the cheese down her shirt and his eyes crinkle with approval. He knows a good leader when he sees one. She is destined for greatness, this one is. The girl has finished her unexpected meal and is looking distrustfully up at him. He nods and hands her a rag. "Go clean the kitchen, please," he tells her softly.

Once again, her eyes show confusion. She goes to the kitchen, not wanting to waste this chance. What is going on, she does not know. The older girls say that this is not what happens. She does not expect this. She does not understand this. But she does this because it is much better than the alternative: starvation. What the girls say Old Cray does is nothing like what he is doing now. She wants it to stay like that. Her mind has been wandering for a long while and she has done no work in that time. Worried, she steals a glance back to the room where he is. He is relaxing on a gaudy, stuffed chair and reading a book. She turns back and continues her work, glad that he either has not noticed or does not care. Her suspicion is that he does not care.

She drags out her work longer than normal, trying to postpone what she perceives to be the inevitable. Finally, when she can stall no longer, she walks to the man and hands him her rag. He looks up knowingly and gives her a reassuring smile. "Done, girl?"

She nods stiffly and keeps her eyes trained on his face, waiting for his move.

He stands slowly, arms outstretched, and gives off a long, tired yawn which is cut off by the sound of an old back cracking and a quiet curse immediately after. He groans, "Help an old man, will ya?" The girl complies, letting him lean on her… after she has hidden her nearly imperceptible laughter adequately.

Together, they hobble towards the kitchen. The man sighs and sits down heavily on a padded chair. "You still hungry?" He addresses the girl.

She nods, wondering where he is going with this.

"Have as much as you'd like," he motions to an assortment of fruits and breads on the table before him.

She looks at him in consternation. The fruits alone could sell for a year of comfortable living. There are things she has never seen before. A star-shaped fruit, a spiky yellow object the size of her head, a hairy brown ball. Why would this man give her these things? Are they poisoned? No, she reasons. The man could do whatever he wanted to her and he has not yet. There is no need for the use of poisons. Even so, she watches carefully as the man takes a large bite out of a loaf of bread, chomping on it with obvious relish. Satisfied, she reaches for a handful of grapes and another piece of bread, once again hiding most of it discreetly in her shirt.

"You don't talk much, girl," Cray says conversationally.

"..."

Her silence does not perturb him. "You know the Capitol? The big bad Capitol?" He waves his hands wildly in the air.

She nods, and quietly, so quietly that it could be mistaken for a breath of wind, she whispers, "I hate them."

He stares at the ceiling as if mentally tracing the many cracks spiderwebbing the old paint. "You know," he says, "they killed my family."

She understands that. "My father died because of them." Her sudden anger surprises her. She finds that she is furious not at the old man, but at the head of the snake. The Capitol.

Cray sighs and nibbles at his bread. "One day it'll fall, you know? Just when it falls just depends on when enough people get the courage to stand up for themselves."

She says nothing, wondering if his treasonous words are a trap.

He continues. "I hope that happens sometime during my lifetime. I've heard whispers, you know. Whispers of something to come. We're close, and something is going to happen."

"We have no chance. The Capitol is too powerful. Even some of the districts are on their side."

"Divided, the districts stand no chance. United, they will crush those tyrants."

She bursts out, "Even twelve districts couldn't defeat them! And the Capitol purposely ensures that there is no inter-district communication!"

He smirks. "Maybe there aren't twelve districts." For years, that girl will ponder over the meaning of that simple statement, but it will be a long while before she understands. "As for communication, well, I suppose we'll just have to address that when it happens."

She nods, trying to mask her incomprehension and succeeds.

"You'd be a good leader, you know."

"..."

"I'm serious. Join my unit in a few years, and you'd be my replacement in no time."

At this, she starts and says vehemently, "Join you? I'd die first."

Chuckling, he inquires why.

"You peacekeepers are worse criminals than the ones you lock up. We all hate you, and no good person would ever join your ranks."

He gives her a look of false hurt. "Now, now. Surely we aren't _that_ bad."

"Oh yes you are."

He smiles and leans in as if telling her a secret. "Those words could get you in trouble. I suggest you control them. Let them out at the right time. Maybe you'll be the head of the rebellion, if there is one, but I need you to keep your thoughts to yourself. Wait until it's necessary to say them. Never before."

She gives him an apprehensive look. "Everybody's always telling me to shut up, but nobody's ever told me to save it for later."

"Trust me, if my instincts are right, you won't have to wait long. But then again, a long time for me would be longer than you've been on the plane of existence." He grins conspiratorially.

"You're a senile old man."

"And a nasty pervert… at least, that's what I want them to think."

"You're not?" She looks at him in disbelief.

"First of all, I doubt you even know what those girls were talking about much less what you were walking into…" He sighs.

"You're right, I probably don't," she nods, "but I know it'll help my family live."

"Survive, maybe. Live, no. Nobody's lived since pre-war," he rolls his eyes. "Second of all, I haven't done…those things… since they killed my wife. But I have a reason for pretending to."

She smirks. "You haven't done those things with her or with street girls since she died?"

"AHAHAHA!" He chortles. "With my wife, of course. Are you sure you don't know what we're talking about? You seem to know an awful lot about this."

She gives him a sly sideways glance. "I know a healer. She doesn't believe in innocence."

"I don't believe in innocence either. Not since the Capitol came to power."

She stands up a little shakily. The food has long disappeared from the table and she looks quite a bit bulkier and lumpier than when she first came in. Hey, even a master thief would be hard-pressed to hide so much food on their person. "Is this where…" she motions with her hand. "You do…" Her face is stony and her eyes reveal no emotion.

He doesn't move. "Girl, don't you trust me? I told you that I don't do that kind of thing. It's just an image I uphold to spread anti-Capitol propaganda while helping the people of District 12 survive."

"I suppose…" She looks at him skeptically, not relaxing at all. "You haven't done anything to me yet."

"I _have_ done something to you…" He says. "Now that I'm done using you, you can recover on the couch and leave in the morning. Here's your coin." _Tell whoever asks that I did what I do. Here's a bed for the night. Here's your money. Now rest and you can leave in the morning. _He motions to a leather couch that would have bought three goats, then presses a few heavy coins in her hand.

She looks at him gratefully, and he can see in her eyes that she understands the underlying message. He smiles. She knows how to look underneath the underneath. She'll grow up to become great. He only hopes that he lives to see it.

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A/N:I hope you liked this twist on the typical !EvilpervyCray thing. But then again, I hate reading HG fics so for all I know this idea's been used already.


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